How Can I Help You to Say Goodbye?
by Loveblisters
Summary: Ron and Hermione are madly in love, but when Hermione returns from the holidays, she has devastating news for her love. Can Ron handle it?
1. Hermione's Letter

Chapter 1: Hermione's Letter

            "Harry! Wake up!" Ron Weasley was leaning over Harry Potter's four-poster bed in the seventh year boys' dormitory of the Gryffindor tower. 

            It was Christmas morning and Ron was especially eager this year to open his gifts. After all, Hermione Granger would be sending him something 

this year. The couple had been dating for a whole year by this time, and Hermione was all Ron ever thought about anymore. Everything about her, from 

her bushy brown hair to her bookworm personality - Ron loved it all. He couldn't wait until she returned to Hogwarts at the end of the holidays. Neither 

could Harry, for he was getting rather sick of Ron's constant moaning.

            "What?" Harry asked groggily. He rolled over and saw a very distraught Ron looking over him. He grabbed his glasses off his bedside table and 

sat up to face his freckled friend.

            "It's not here!" Ron hissed, attempting to keep the other two boys in the dormitory asleep. His flaming red hair was ruffled and his eyes were 

blood shot.

            "Ron, what -"

            "The letter! Hermione's letter! It's not here! I can't find it anywhere!"

            "Oh! That's all?" Harry sighed, sitting back against the headboard. 

            "That's all?! Her letter's the only thing I have of her right now, Harry!! Don't you understand? If I can't find it, I won't have anything to remind 

me of her until she gets back! I'll go insane! Help me find it!" Ron's veins were beginning to protrude from his forehead and his face was tear-stained.

            "Ok, ok. Calm down. I'll help you find it. Don't have a cow," Harry stifled his laughter and forced out a reply. He stumbled out of bed and slid his 

feet into his navy blue slippers. He and Ron quickly searched the small, circular dormitory before slipping into the common room. They spent two and half 

hours looking for the letter until Ron remembered that he had left it in his robes the previous day.

            "Harry! I found it!" Ron was ecstatic as he leapt down the spiraling staircase into the common room. Harry was sacked out on the sofa and 

staring into the dying fire. He was extremely relieved when Ron announced that their search was indeed successful. "Oh good," he mumbled.

            "I want to read it again. You won't mind, will you?"

            "Of course not, Ron. Read away," Harry replied sarcastically.

            "Great!" Ron slumped down in one of the cushy armchairs and began reciting Hermione's words:

            "Dearest Ron,

                        I miss you so much and I wish you were here. I long to feel your tender touch upon my skin and I pine for you to whisper my name    softly in the night. Oh Ron, how I love you. I only hope you love me as much, if not more! I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm afraid I must go. I am expected to read a few chapters in my Transfiguration book before I return (and so are you). Write me as soon as you can! 

            All My Love,

            Hermione"

            Ron finished reading and let out a deep, heavy sigh. "Isn't she romantic?" he said.

            "Er...yeah, Ron. Uh...no offense or anything, but wasn't she romantic the last twenty times you read it?" Harry said impatiently.

            "Well, thanks a lot, Harry. I appreciate your support," Ron answered facetiously. He folded the letter and returned it to his pocket. 

            "Sorry. Can we open presents now?" Harry suggested, standing up and heading to the large Christmas tree in the corner.

            "Sure," Ron replied, his spirits lifting slightly. He too stood up and joined Harry at the tree. They both kneeled in front of their own piles and began 

to sort through them. 

            The two friends had quickly unwrapped their gifts and were sharing them with the other seventh year boys by the time seven o'clock rolled 

around. Harry had received his annual sweater from Mrs. Weasley, a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from Hagrid, and a book with every 

international Quidditch team in it from Hermione, among various other presents. Ron, of course, was admiring HIS gift from Hermione. She had sent him a 

lovely golden ring with a heart and "H.G. + R.W." engraved in it, along with another love letter. He had snapped when Neville Longbottom and Dean 

Thomas asked to see it, and began stroking it softly.

            "Ron, I think you're officially obssessed," said Dean. He was munching on a chocolate frog and flipping through a Quidditch magazine.

            "Whatever, Dean. You're just jealous," Ron replied shortly.

            "Jealous?" Dean laughed, "Yeah, Ron, I'm jealous. Actually, I hope I never fall in love. I'd much rather keep my masculinity, thank you very much."

            Neville Longbottom snorted and some of Harry's Bertie Bott's beans were sprayed across the floor. "Sorry, Ron. I just thought it was a little 

funny," he said at the sight of Ron's expression.

            "I say we head down to the Great Hall for breakfast! What about you guys?" Dean suggested.

            "Sounds good to me," said Harry. They stood up, gathered their presents before dropping them off in their dormitory, and began walking 

through the corridors toward the Great Hall. They entered through the large oak doors and sat down at the Gryffindor table. Taking their time and 

talking about what they were going to do the rest of the time they had before the holidays were over, Harry, Ron, Dean, and Neville enjoyed their 

scrumptious Christmas breakfast. When they had finished, they meandered back to Gryffindor tower and occupied themselves with their new gifts. 

Despite Harry's wishes, Ron begged him to help write a love letter to send back to Hermione.

            "Ron, you know I can't think of anything mushy. You asked me last time and I'm all burned out. I've got nothing left!" 

            "Oh, come on, Harry. It's not that hard! All you have to do is just say things you'd probably find in Witch Weekly. Please?" Ron begged.

            "Oh, alright," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes quite obviously. They sat down at one of the round tables in the corner and began writing Ron's reply.

**********


	2. Puzzled

Chapter 2: Puzzled

            "It's here!! Harry, come down! It's here!" Ron was yelling up the staircase to Harry, who was contently reading his new Quidditch book in the 

boys' dormitory.

            "I'm coming!!" he screamed back down to Ron. He had been avoiding Ron as much as possible, because Hermione would be returning home 

in a few days and Ron was hysterical. 

            "Hurry! I want you to see it!"

            "Okay! I said I'm coming!" Harry stood up, laid his book on his bed, and joined Ron in the common room. "What is it?" he asked, once he had 

caught sight of his friend.

            "The letter!!" Ron exclaimed.

            "Oh no. Not another letter?" Harry said exasperatedly, sitting down onto the soft, red sofa.

            "Harry! Sheesh, you're so encouraging," Ron replied, unfolding the letter he held in his hand.

            "Sorry, Ron. It's just -"

            "Shhh! I'm going to read it now! You'll take away the magnificence if you talk." Ron stared longingly at the beautiful handwriting on the 

parchment.

            "My Darling Ron,

                        I am more than greatly pleased to tell you that I will be returning to Hogwarts the day after tomorrow, so do not fret, my love, I will soon be in your arms again. I'm terribly sorry this is so short, but I must end this. I will see you when I return. Give Harry my regards.

            Love Always,

            Hermione"

            "That was nice. Let's go see Hagrid," Harry said quickly, so that Ron wouldn't start yet another one of his tantrums.

            "Harry! How could you suggest such a thing in a such a time of sorrow?!" Ron had silent tears streaming down his face.

            "Ron, how is this sorrowful? Hermione just told us she'd be home in two days! I would think you'd be happy," Harry exclaimed, apparently 

flabbergasted.

            "Yes, I know. But two days is too far away! I only wish she'd return today." 

            Harry guessed Ron would probably continue moping the rest of the two days until Hermione came back. Thus, he decided to visit Hagrid alone.

He left Ron alone in the common room and made his way across the Hogwarts grounds towards Hagrid's hut. Once he got there, he pounded on the door. 

He could hear Fang the boarhound howling inside, and then "It's alrigh', Fang. Jus' someone at the door." Hagrid swung open the gigantic wooden door 

and smiled at the sight of Harry. Fang stuck his head out from under Hagrid's arm and let out a loud bark. 

            "Hiya, Harry. Why don' ya come in fer some tea?"

            "Thanks, Hagrid," Harry replied, stepping inside Hagrid's small hut. He sat down at the table as Fang laid his head upon Harry's knee.

            "Everythin' alrigh'?" Hagrid asked, taking the kettle of tea off the fire and setting it down on the table.

            "I think so." Harry took a sip of the tea Hagrid had just poured for him and scrunched up his face soon after. He had forgotten not to eat or drink 

anything Hagrid made, especially the rock cakes.

            "Ya sure?"

            "Well...now that you mention it, there is something that's bothering me," Harry answered hesitantly. He bit his lip, unsure whether or not he should 

continue this conversation. Though Hagrid, no matter how large, was always trustworthy, so Harry decided it wouldn't hurt anything to tell him.

            "Er...well, you know how much in love Ron and Hermione are, right?"

            Hagrid grunted in reply and joined Harry at the table. His face was contorted in a weird expression and it looked as if he were holding back a 

painful laugh.

            "Okay...well, despite the fact that Hermione's coming home in two days, Ron is still obsessively moping around like she's never coming back. I've 

tried talking to him about it, but he won't snap out of it! What do I do, Hagrid?"

            Hagrid cleared his throat before answering in an unusually high voice, "Well, Harry, I dunno wha' ter tell ya. 'Specially considerin' I've never been 

in love like tha'. You'll have ter talk ter someone with more experience in tha' field. Sorry." His voice returned to its natural pitch and he took another sip of 

his tea. 

            Harry sighed loudly and stood up to leave. "Thanks, Hagrid. I'd better get back up to the castle, though. I'll talk to you later," he said, patting 

Fang lightly on the head. He pushed his chair back up to the table and pulled the door open.

            When he stepped outside, he closed the door behind him, and took a deep breath of the afternoon air. He decided that despite Hagrid's helpful 

intentions, his advice had just returned him to ground zero. He wasn't making any progress in the operation to help Ron and his obvious obsession, and 

Hagrid couldn't offer anything other than what he'd already heard. He slowly made his way back up to the castle, taking his time as he was not in any 

hurry to return to his annoying friend.

            As he was shuffling up the lawn, staring at the grass, he wasn't aware of the extra pair of feet walking toward him until he stepped on them.

            "What the -? Potter! What are you doing here?" It was the drawling voice of none other than Draco Malfoy himself.

            "Malfoy!" Harry replied. He jumped back startled and stared into the blonde's face with a puzzled expression.

            "Yeah, it's me. Why'd you step on my foot? Did I frighten you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered at Harry with a glint of hatred in his eyes.

            "No!" Harry spat, "I'm just...er...I mean, just taking a walk. Why?"

            "No reason," Malfoy said, as he stepped past, brushing his shoulder against Harry's.

            Harry turned his head to see the back of Malfoy's head slipping away from him, and for some strange reason, he longed to stroke it...

**********


	3. The Surprise

Chapter 3: Hermione's Surprise  
  
He sat stroking the ring with utmost desire. He wanted to remind himself that she wouldn't leave, that she'd be returning to his arms in only a matter of time. He pined to see her sparkling brown eyes, to hear her tender voice, to feel her warmth against him when he held her. Harry was no help; he didn't understand. In fact, he probably couldn't care less whether or not Hermione ever laughed again. Wait, what was he thinking? Of course Harry would care. She's one of his best friends and he would be devastated if he never saw her smile again.  
Why were these thoughts running through his head? Ron didn't know. He didn't care. He was too preoccupied with waiting for his love to return. He was sweating profusely and his flaming red hair was pasted to his forehead. The ring kept slipping on and off his finger as he twisted it around in his hand nervously. Where was Harry? He should have been there by now. They had agreed to meet in the entrance hall so they could be there the moment she walked through the big oak doors. Ron was going to be the first one to see her, the first one to hold her.  
"Ron!" The tall red-head turned quickly when he heard his name being called behind him, "Harry! Where've you been? I've been standing here forever!"  
"Sorry," Harry panted, jogging up to his best friend. "Colin wanted to get an autographed photo to send to his cousin, and then he wanted me to  
  
meet some new friends he made."  
Usually Ron would have screwed up his face trying to hide his jealousy at this remark, but he was too distracted. "Oh" was all he managed to say. The two friends turned back around to face the front doors as silence hit them. Harry couldn't stand it, though - not talking. It was too awkward to just stand there.  
"So, Ron..." he said. Ron tilted his head toward Harry, but didn't take his eyes off the doors. "Yeah?" he mumbled.  
"Er...it's gonna be great once she gets here, huh?"  
"Yeah."  
Harry cleared his throat before continuing the forced conversation, "you must really miss her right now."  
"Yeah."  
"So, you do?  
"Yeah."  
Harry decided that because of Ron's monotonous replies, he would mess with him a little. "But, you don't want her to come back?"  
"Yeah."  
"Oh! So, you don't ever want Hermione to come back again?"  
"What?" At the mention of Hermione's name, Ron turned to look at Harry with a puzzled look on his face, snapping out of his trance. "Of course I want her to return!! What kind of sick game are you playing, Harry??" Ron yelled, horrified at what his friend had just asked him.  
"No, Ron! I didn't mean it like that! I just - I mean, you just - well, never mind," Harry replied.  
"Fine then," Ron said, pursing his lips and turning away from his best friend.  
A few moments of silence pierced the awkwardness between them, but Harry intended to end it.  
"Ron, I – "  
"I don't want to hear it. I'm waiting for Hermione, so if you don't mind, I would greatly appreciate it if you shut your mouth for a while," Ron interrupted coldly.  
"Fine," said Harry, moving to the opposite wall of the corridor.  
"Fine," Ron muttered under his breath. He stood staring at the great oak doors leading to the winter wonderland outside, as if he was attempting to break them down with his glare. Any minute now, he thought. She'll be waltzing through those doors with a smile on her face, ecstatic to see me. Only me. Suddenly, the front doors burst open, and Hogwarts students from every year hurried inside to escape from the bitter cold. A third year from Ravenclaw joined her friends in a corner, exchanging hugs and "I missed you"s; a Hufflepuff fifth year distributed gifts to his friends before heading off to their common room; and Draco Malfoy rejoined his cronies in the dungeons after smirking at Harry. Ron searched the crowd with his eyes, looking for the bushy brown hair and rosy cheeks he had been dying to see since holiday started. But the packed corridor soon became empty and there was no Hermione. Harry rejoined Ron against the stone wall, and waited with him for hours. "Where is she?" Ron asked in an unnaturally quiet and shaky voice. "I don't know," Harry answered, with great effort. He felt as though a rope was tied around his throat, preventing him to speak or even draw breath. "She said she would be here." "I know." "Do you reckon we missed her?" Ron's voice was starting to sound panicky and high. "Maybe..." Harry didn't want to cause Ron a nervous breakdown by telling him that they, in fact, could not have missed her. She would have seen them anyway. "Ron, she could be in the common room. Why don't we have a go there?" "No. I'll wait for her here. I told her I would." "Are you sure?" "Yes," Ron said, keeping his gaze on the front doors. "Alright." Harry clapped a hand on his best friend's shoulder before heading off to the Gryffindor common room. Maybe Ron's right, he thought. Maybe she's in the common room. But these thoughts were everything but comforting to him. He knew she hadn't come through those doors. But where was she? She promised. 


	4. Draco Malfoy

Chapter 4: Draco Malfoy  
  
"Croaking toads," Harry muttered to the Fat Lady, before slipping inside the warm common room. He quickly glanced around for any sight of Hermione, though he knew it was in vain. Granted, he wanted to see her very badly, because she was, after all, one of his best friends. But he knew Ron was really the upset one. He seemed to be thinking the worse, whereas Harry just figured she got delayed. "Heya, Harry!" exclaimed Neville Longbottom, as Harry joined him on a sofa by the fire. "Hi," said Harry. "What's the matter? Poison pumpkin juice at supper? Those ghosts get a laugh out of everything, eh?" Neville asked, struggling to keep his pet toad in his hands. "Nah. It's nothing like that," answered Harry, with a sigh. "Well, I won't tell. I swear!" Neville, being the forgetful boy that he was, could probably be trusted with this oath, as he most likely wouldn't remember what Harry was going to tell him in the first place. "It's not a secret. It's just that Hermione hasn't returned yet. Nothing big." "Oh. Well, how come you look so down? I would expect Ron to be the worried one." "Well, she's my friend, too. He's upset, but don't I have a right to be as well?" "Sorry, Harry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just... well... you know. They're just so... close, I suppose." Neville shrugged. "Well, I'm off to bed. See you tomorrow." "Yeah, see you," answered Harry, as Neville stood up and disappeared up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Harry stretched out on the sofa and stared at the fire until only its ashes remained. He reckoned thinking so much was probably unhealthy, but he convinced himself it was only to pass the time. He was actually only waiting for Ron to come up. He sat up and glanced at his watch. Midnight, and still no Ron. Had he missed him too? He decided to use his trusty Invisibility Cloak to find Ron, because he wasn't sure his best friend was in his right mind at the moment. In fact, he was getting quite worried about Ron's non-existent return. He hurried up to the dormitory and brought his dad's old Invisibility Cloak back down to the common room. Slipping it over his head and proceeding into the corridor (after a nasty "Hey! Who's there?!" from the Fat Lady), Harry set off to find his friend. He figured Ron probably wasn't by the Great Hall again, due to the fact that he would've gotten caught outside the dormitories at this time of night. Instead, he headed off toward the Astronomy Tower. Ron and Hermione loved to go there often, so Harry was pretty proud of his logic. Why hadn't he come back to the common room? Was he unconscious? Delusional? Had he run away? Was he trying to avoid everyone? Harry's mind raced with possibilities. Ron wasn't the type to just take off and not come back for hours without telling anyone. That was Harry's job. Anticipation grew in his mind as he thought of everything that could have happened to Ron. Was he hurt? Was he in trouble? Suddenly, a dark figure smashed into him and knocked his glasses off. "Ooof!" Harry muttered, as he lost his balance. "Sorry," came another voice in front of him. Harry rubbed his head, replaced his glasses upon his nose, and removed the Invisibility Cloak. "Who's there?" he asked the darkness. "It depends. Who are you?" came an awfully familiar voice. "Malfoy??" "What's it to you?" said Malfoy, lighting his wand and standing up. "What are you doing out of bed at this time of night?" Harry asked, joining him on his feet. "The same could be asked of you, Potter." "Well... I'll tell you if you tell me." "Oh please. I was looking for that so-called Prefects' bathroom. I heard it was the place to be. Care to join me?" Malfoy answered sarcastically. "Prefects' bathroom?" "I was kidding..." "Oh. Well, I was looking for my friend, Ron. You'd be some nice company, would you mind coming with me?" Harry was alarmed that these words had actually been spoken. Was he even thinking that? Malfoy joining him to look for Ron? Where on earth did that come from? "You're joking, right?" Malfoy replied. "Er..." 


End file.
